


~*Save The Last Dance For Me*~

by PhoenixFire_theWizardGoddess



Category: Monster High
Genre: Allusions of a Sexual Nature, Chaos ensuing from multiple underhanded schemes clashing and counteracting one another, Evil Teachers and their Downright Sadistic Exams, F/F, F/M, Little cute, M/M, Misunderstandings, Multi, Prom Ficlet, Secret Santa Gift for racisteggroll of Tumblr, So many puns... I cannot stress enough how sorry I am for the punnery, Teenaged Confusion, The Incident, Tried to use as many character couples as possible, frozen, hopefully in character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-27
Updated: 2014-12-27
Packaged: 2018-03-03 19:47:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2884829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenixFire_theWizardGoddess/pseuds/PhoenixFire_theWizardGoddess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prom approaches swiftly as a reward for all their hard work in this last week of the scaremester, the only issue being... everything's gone incredibly, inexplicably wrong.<br/>Toralei seems to be up to something major that's got the rest of the school on red-alert, as Deuce and Clawdeen pine after monsters they can't have; Cleo  is in terrible spirits when Holt swipes what she perceived as her last chance at happiness... and someone's going to call the Ghostbusters on Spectra if the Ghostly Gossip doesn't cool it with her story-mongering.</p>
<p>Tensions are high, secret underhanded plans are all crashing and clashing everywhere as intended targets get the wrong end of the monster stick... let's hope no one brings up The Incident, or FROZEN, because someone might get killed... again.</p>
<p>Their Prom night is jam-packed with more calamity, excitement, spooktacular reveals and insanity than any of the guests could ever have anticipated. But that's Monster High for you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Something Wicked, This Way Comes

**Author's Note:**

> MERRY (Belated) CHRISTMAS, racisteggroll!
> 
> Hope you like this mad-cap adventure with the ghouls and guys of Monster High!

In all honesty, it was rather difficult to ignore the person you never meant to develop feelings for, when they were always in close proximity… and always doing surprisingly adorable things.

 

Uh, not that the child of Medusa would ever be crazy enough to actually voice that out loud, even if it might result in that strangely human face flushing in insanely-adorable embarrassment for a few seconds… or his alter ego turning a fun shade of purple at the revelation.

 

Hmmm, that might almost be worth the payoff of whatever Spectra would write about it.

 

Ever since the public ‘mutual’ break-up he’d had with Cleo (and that was a carefully crafted deception that seemed to have fooled everyone)... the blogging ghoul had been shadowing them both on and off. Mainly trying to find out the _how, why, who and what now?_ surrounding the dissolution of Monster High’s main _It-Couple_.

 

Unfortunately, the Ghostly Gossip was rather purrsistent and refused to stop hovering on the periphery at all times… which made it pretty difficult for either of them to get within a dozen feet of their intended targets - without an update claiming something ludicrous. _Just last week_ Spectra had raised questions about whether or not Cleo De Nile herself had designs on Abbey Bominable - all because they’d spent the entirety of Study Howl together chatting instead of working… and he didn’t even want to think about that article speculating what went on in the mansters’ locker room after he played a game.

 

She was way out of line, but the Headless Headmistress was away this month, so there was no one to reign in her more… uh, _creative_ impulses.

 

It wouldn’t be so bad, if only that crazy ghostie ghoul would fact check before going off half-cocked to type out whatever her - _admittedly vivid and oft-times fascinating_ \- imagination deemed a fitting series of false facts to elaborate on whatever ‘ground-breaking story’ she’d concocted from half-truths and rumour. Sighing, Deuce made a quick sweep of the area from under his protective visor and made for the locker he’d been assigned, frustratingly close to that of the bloodie he’d started to think of as _more_ than a friend…

 

**~**

 

Some might consider the boy nothing more than the human freaky-flaw of the popular party monster, DJ Holt Hyde, but anyone who spent more than a few minutes with either of them began to realise just how surprisingly similar they were underneath the overt visual differences. Deuce always liked how Jackson would light up if he was included in a statement under the ‘monsters’ banner, no snarky _‘not to mention the normie in the room’_ comment thrown in…

 

From the gorgon’s perspective, classing them both as something _monsterial_ made more sense than the ‘half-human’ label did… because really, this was _Monster High_ -and that wasn’t just a name.  A lot of the things they did in this educational haven for the next generation of monsters would kill a normie stone-dead!

From something as inane as creepateria food, to Frankie’s random lightning strike-like sparks… not to mention what the Mad-Scientist-in-the-making was like in class, alongside the school’s other resident genius, Ghoulia. After the last explosion ( _they both swore hadn’t been deliberate… yet their elated expressions said otherwise_ ), the Mad Science lab, and half the neighbouring Biteology lab, had burned purple flames for near on a week…

 

…the Headless Headmistress was still having Nightmare keep a not-so-discreet eye on them even now, months after the latest incident. Well, latest incident she knew about… there were a few unofficial experiments being run in the catacombs she’d sell her head to know about before they blew.

  
  
  


Whatever Holt and Jackson were, officially, no one knew… but Deuce was sure it fell under the vague category of fire-proof monster; based on all the evidence he could muster by paying close, _totally-not-stalkery-_ attention, to the pair.

 

There were other things he knew about them that most others did not, too…

 

Like how Jackson loved rain while Holt hated it, how sunburns never seemed to transfer over to the other personality but papercuts did… that they communicated through video chat when they thought no one was looking, not yet having mastered internal communication like their mothers had; and how, in recent times, Holt had managed to combine their favourite foods to both their satisfactions (and the utter horror of the _Home Ick_ Creature, Mrs Kindegrubber).

He also knew how their chameleon Crossfade used to shift colour schemes for each of them individually, that both of them looked equally adorkable in Jackson’s glasses or Holt’s (ironically) fire-engine red jacket… and the gorgon was especially hyper-aware of how Jackson seemed to be spending far more time with Toralei and her werekitty posse recently.

 

This last action being something that _even Holt was openly disapproving of._

And considering Holt had a long, long list of things to his name that Jackson had marked down as ‘ _questionable_ ’, [which was apparently the Jekyll equivalent of _‘Oh my Ra, tell me you didn’t…’_ ] so this was fairly significant. Normally Holt was all for Jackson making new friends and making crazy decisions… fully endorsing that _one time they must never speak of again_ , involving a half-dozen feather boas, their new tongue piercing, the soundtrack to FROZEN and a now-broken Chandelier. Deuce retained the only photographic evidence of that incident on his phone… it was a spooktacular night…

  
  
  


_‘...-ot saying don’t have friends, bro… just that there’s got to be another reason for her sudden over-friendliness, Jacks… trust me, stay away from them! Tora’s a cool ghoul but… she must want something...’_ he’d overheard Holt telling Jackson via iCoffin, just prior to practically scaring the normie-like monster out of his skin when his presence was realised.

The iCoffin hastily stashed, Holt’s voice continuing, muffled, from his pocket as they both had pretended not to hear it. That the pair were communicating externally was not a thing they wanted to spread about, public knowledge could be dangerous… especially if someone decided to see what they conversed about by going through their iCoffin and watching their confursations.

 

Deuce and Operetta were the only ones who knew about it, at the moment… not even Frankie was aware. Which hadn’t exactly helped his predicament, Deuce realised in frustration, because the more the other(s) trusted and relied on him… the harder it got to hide his… growing affections.

 

He couldn’t help but concur with Holt’s assessment of the situation, though, even if he’d pretended to be oblivious to the whole thing. Toralei rarely ever did something unless it was for her own benefit… but Jackson was such an open, trusting, occasionally intensely-sarcastic, person to know -once you managed to get under that monstrous wall of caution, suspicion and self-defense that had built up over the years, that is.

 

And somehow… Toralei had in record time; dragging Meowlody and Purrsephone along for the ride. Even Heath was confused, because it was unusual to say the least, especially since Holt was so reluctant to the whole thing, and the pair tended to share attitudes towards non-musical things (especially more recently after the Frankie-vention, where she demanded they talk, work things out and stop being so polar about things for the sheer sake of causing minor chaos).

  
  


The whole situation had concerned Deuce, to be honest. Even after initially asking the other to sit at their table for lunch on that first day; all polite inquiry at that time, and for a solid fortnight afterwards, had been met with one-word answers or clever attempts to sidetrack the confursation. Of the sort that he’d only recognised, and successfully countered, after years of deploying them against Cleo.

It was a defense mechanism, hard-won, ingrained and not easy to turn off… so he’d let Jackson come around to the realisation that Deuce was totally his bro, _someone to trust when he thought no one else was on his side_ , on his own. Though this tactic had worked, it had taken several long weeks… still, it was something he’d taken as a major victory; Jackson was an awesome friend to have, and he suddenly understood why Cleo and Ghoulia were always so tight despite seeming so vastly different in attitudes, interests and personalities.

  
  


Yet, Toralei and the twins seemed to have hurdled that barricade, in a heart-beat. Their sudden friendship seemed to have come out of nowhere - quite literally. One day they didn’t even make eye-contact in the hallway and the next… Jackson was apparently a werekat magnet. Neither party seemed inclined to ela-boo-rate on the how or why of their strange union, as if in-fur-ing that the rest of the school should simply know this infurmation already.

  
  


Okay, so admittedly, Deuce was pretty damn jealous of the whole situation… but he was equally worried about the werekitty’s intentions for this strange relationship she’d constructed with Jackson. This might blow up into something huge that would freak the other into ‘leaving’, which would mean that Holt would be present for the rest of their time at Monster High… it’s not like they didn’t have the technology to make super-charged iCoffin batteries with the odds-and-ends available in the Mad Science labs, so it was a plausible paranoia on the Gorgon’s behalf.

 

On the other hand, nothing seemed to be happening on that front -aside from a few hushed confursations, the quartet sitting together in one of the trees outside reading during quiet moments, and occasionally sharing lunch amongst the four of them.

 

Suspicious, but nothing they could prove as a potential set-up.

 

Frankie had confided to Cleo she hoped this was a positive step for Toralei, finding a new friend like Jackson, who was one of those people that brought out the kind, and more often than not, protective side in others… but numerous others amongst the student-deadbody were more wary. Even Manny took time out of his usual ‘targeting’ of the human-looking monster to ask what was going on with the extended werekat-time… an unusual feat in itself.

 

Though to be honest, _pestering Jackson time_ was more _snarky confursations thrown back and forth for an audience who weren’t fooled in the least by this pseudo-aggression_ , as opposed to actual bull-ying, at this point. Perhaps it was the casketball, or maybe Manny was growing up… i _t might also be the perpetual phobia of Holt setting the Minotaur on fire in retaliation like he’d threatened…_ but whatever it was, they were shriekretly bloodies now. Well, _not-so-shriekretly_ , really… but the school let them think that it was.

 

**~**

 

The gorgon’s eyes narrowed, zoning back into the present with a twitch, watching as the very object of his concern let out a laugh and swatted Jackson on the shoulder. Purrsephone and Meowlody were lounging atop the lockers languidly, tails flicking back and forth rhythmically, occasionally passing through the mess of black and yellow that Jackson referred to as hair.

 

With a start, Deuce suddenly realises he’s not the only one watching proceedings intently… a half-dozen lockers down, the fashionista werewolf Clawdeen Wolf has gone stock-still, ears surreptitiously swiveling around as if trying to hone in on the confursation. Well, that’s never a good sign…

 

Throwing caution to the wind and mentally begging the Goddess Fortuna to be on his side that Spectra was otherwise occupied right now, he pastes on a casual grin and strides over. The Twins’ hackles raise a little as he approaches, but they don’t hiss… an improvement on last time, at least.

 

Toralei’s eyes rake his form with intense scrutiny - from head snakes to shoe soles- before she lets out a little ambiguous ‘ _hmph_ ’, grins wickedly at Jackson, shrugs and moves away with a quiet, ‘ _Don’t go forgetting now, my blue-eyed baby boy_!’

Like greased lightning, her two werekat shadows dart down smoothly and take up a brisk pace behind their leader… as Jackson turns a fun shade of crimson at this apparently brand-new nickname.

 

“O-...kay, care to tell me what that’s all about, dude?” he levels at Jackson, who is trying to flatten the pointy mess the Twins’ have made of his hair, with little luck. That was more of a hair- _don’t_ at this point, and nothing except perhaps some extra-strength hair gel was going to fix it…

 

He had to clench his hands into fists for a brief second so as not to act on the impulse to try and help. A bro could help with another’s hair… unless they were Deuce Gorgon and continuously being stalked by a paparazzo ghost who would try to sensationalise the situation. Even if perhaps just this once, she’d be 100% correct, he wasn’t sure how Jackson (or Holt for that matter) would take it… they’d never given any real indication of whether they felt anything other than intense bro-ship for the gorgon.

 

“Um…” those beautiful blue orbs cast about in different directions, seeming to search for a change of topic, mind visibly working to come up with a plausible excuse.

 

Frustrated, but accepting, Deuce lets the whole scenario slide with a shoulder bump and a friendly, “Okay, so we’ll get back to that… got any plans for Prom?”

 

Several large textbooks Jackson was pulling from the locker clatter to the floor, and he looks like an ancient Grecian warrior caught in Medusa’s gaze as he turns to face the gorgon. “Um… I didn’t until… just now, apparently. What about you, I mean… after the whole overly-sensationalised breakup…”

 

That was an obvious deflection, but two could play that game.

 

“For one, I’ll just go by myself if I can’t find a ghoul or guy to take,”  Deuce shrugs, staring at the other who is looking every direction but at him, “…and secondly, we’re not skimming over that topic this time. _Who_ ’re you taking to Prom?”

 

“W-well…” the other hesitated, bending to grab the books to hide his face as he muttered, “Toralei…”

 

“ _You’re taking_ Toralei _to the Prom_?” Deuce repeated, shocked, and yet his raised volume was nearly completely drowned out by the sound of metal wrenching free from its hinges. The fierce fashionista’s locker door coming free in a fit of surprised lupine anger, as Clawdeen screamed _‘WHAT?_ ’ to the universe at large.

 

 _Well, that’s… a new piece of the puzzle to muse on_ , Deuce finds himself thinking.

 

Draculaura practically ran down the hall to see if her closest ghoulfriend was alright after that display. Deuce took the moment to languidly examine the fact that Jackson’s expression did not seem to be in line with that of the rest of the hallway… where others were shocked and surprised at the outburst… the other appeared amused, a small smile hiding at the corners of his mouth.

 

 _Okay, stop focusing on that or we’re going to do something Spectra will never stop writing about…_ he had to tell himself, quashing the urge to kiss the other. Simultaneously hoping that he’d imagined the slight flash coming from his left, because if he hadn’t…

  
  


A voice pierced through the fog of his thoughts, “Uh, Deuce?”

 

He blinked back to reality to find Jackson looking at him with a quizzical expression, like the gorgon was a puzzle that the other was trying to solve. Huh, perhaps he was, in a way. The question was, really, whether the other would like the final picture that was displayed when all the pieces were laid out in order…

 

“Huh, sorry man… lost in my thoughts, what were we talking about?” the Gorgon feigned confusion, which earned him a sympathetic expression.

 

“Nothing overly important, you were trying to wring information out of us about the Toralei situation… and not being very subtle about it.” Grinned Jackson, almost predatorily as Deuce realised how obvious he had been being. “I just wanted to warn you that it’s Holt’s class next, so… you might want to stand back, apparently we get pretty hot when changing over… and even if we didn’t, he’s a _flailer_. Your pretty face might not be safe at this distance.”

 

 _Was that a…compliment? No, it couldn’t have been…could it?_ He shoved away that thought, but somehow failed to dodge the one hiding right behind it. _You’re both pretty hot all the time…_

Deuce managed to clamp down on that one before it left his mouth, instead laughing and responding, “Is that even a word?”

 

Jackson shrugged, “Perhaps not, but it seems accurate… see you in Biteology after Lunch, I suppose. Can you please ask Holt to check his iCoffin?”

 

Deuce nodded as Jackson sighed, slid the headphones on and pressed play on their iCoffin.   
Watching them change over from close-up was not easily done, but Deuce had his visor on which absorbed the majority of the light flare. There was a rush of flame that seemed at once, all over the Jekyll-Hyde… but at the same time, rose in an all-encompassing circle from the ground, flying up their body and only ceasing over their heads; erasing one and leaving the other. The transition back was the exact opposite, he had noticed by… paying close attention.  

  
  


“AW YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH, READY TO ROCK!”  Holt shouted, forcing several werewolves nearby to flatten their ears down as the loud noise slammed into their super-sensitive hearing implements like a wrecking ball. In that odd way the pair had, Holt seemed to know who was about him… because he immediately turned to look at Deuce as if returning to a conversation already underway. “Yo, Deuce, there you are… right where we left you.”

 

How does anyone even respond to a line like that?

Aiming for casual, as if this was just another one of those things that came with inter-monster cooperation, and not something totally unique with no set precedents as to how to react, Deuce said, “Uh, yeah, right here… hey, Jackson said to check your iCoffin.”

 

“Did he really?” the party monster arched a pierced eyebrow in response, digging the somehow unscathed phone out of his pocket. If the gorgon had blinked, he would have missed the split-second transition Holt’s face made, from that strange jubilant glee of being out and about, to the hybrid lovechild of a thundercloud and bitter parental disappointment.

 

“HE’S GOING WITH _WHO_ NOW?!”

 

Well, that was rather deafening. The werewolves were starting to glare in response… to be fair, it was finals week at Monster High, tensions were high; a volatile combination of stress, sleep deprivation and over-caf- _fiend_ -ation didn’t end well under normal circumstances. So _naturally_ , there was also a full moon tomorrow night, meaning everyone was amped up, aggressive and not sure how to work it out of their systems… which might actually explain Clawdeen’s earlier outburst.

 

“I’m gonna have to go have words with this pretty kitty before my Musical Theory final,” Holt sighed, frowning at the iCoffin. “Kinda doubting this was Jacky-boy’s idea, and leaning more towards the concept it was totally all Toralei’s… which can’t be good.”

  
  


There was sincerity behind the words, but that wasn’t everything about this situation that was bugging his blue bloody… Deuce was a pretty perceptive person after all those years with Cleo and her cryptic clues as to what she wanted. So it was almost second nature to see there was something the other manster wasn’t saying…

 

Heart metaphorically sliding into the pits of his stomach, Deuce found himself asking the only logical conclusion his mind could pick out of Holt’s meaning. “Was there… someone else you were hoping to ask, or have ask you before Toralei got first dibs…?”

 

It was almost eerie just how similar Holt and Jackson were when they smiled like that, happy… but secretive. Sure, technically they were the same person, but most would never notice it unless they spent enough time with both of them…

 

Like a predator, Holt swaggered over towards him. One blue hand briefly contacting his face in an overly-familiar gesture, the likes of which Holt was widely known for, before slinging the arm it was attached to around his bloodie’s shoulders and dragging the other manster in close enough for his snakes to lick the other’s facial marking without straining to reach.

“Deuce, my gorgeous Gorgan bro, _yes_ … yes we were… but apparently Toralei’s beat them to it. Sucks… we were waiting _sooooooo_ patiently…”

 

Was that… was that a pointed glare?

Okay, now he was getting a little confused… oh no, did Holt know? Was this some sort of taunt? Deuce could feel his blood pressure rising, a blush threatening to set his cheeks aflame… but apparently Holt had said his piece, because he was already slipping away.

 

“Oh well, guess I’ll go see if Operetta wants to go with me still, right after I have a word with our resident feline alpha-wannabe.” The other pouted, rather melodramatically as he shoved their locker closed and began to walk away. “See you later, man…”

 

“I… yeah, see you then.” Since when were words so difficult to get out?

  
  


Part of him wished that Holt would come back… and not just because the party monster and his alter-ego,  Jackson, had a higher body temperature than most -which appealed directly to his cold-blooded nature; his skin was still tingling from where they’d made contact. Like it was trying to memorise the feel of them pressed against one another...

 

Atop his head, the snakes were fighting amongst themselves, sensing his confused indecision… and acting out aggressively, or maybe they were play-fighting to keep warm… he wasn’t really sure how to communicate with them properly just yet. Trying to be a person sharing a body with another lifeform (or in his case, several) was not as easy as he made it look… that’s why he tried his best to understand Jackson and Holt, because he might be one of the few at the school who came close to understanding their predicament.

 

With a sigh, Deuce turned his attention in the direction of Study Howl, which he had next… sadly in the opposite direction that Holt had taken; only to come face to face with Clawdeen’s pointed stare over Draculaura’s head. She jerked her head just so, indicating that he needed to come closer, and then said something he couldn’t hear to tiny pink vampire –who squealed, hugged her, and ran off to greet Clawd who’d just walked out of a Freakonomics Final looking like he’d played a dozen rounds of _Get Down Mr President_ with overly zealous gargoyles.

 

Intrigued, Deuce began to walk in her direction, only to pause in irritation as his iCoffin, along with everyone else’s in the hall- began to buzz indicating some sort of mass update. Checking the incoming alert, the Gorgon let out an audible huff of amusement and rolled his eyes, trying not to laugh at the newest addition on Spectra’s blog…

 

The tagline read, “ _Ro-Manster In The Air for Our Former It-Couple’s, Deuce Gorgon?_ ” featuring a full-length picture of him looking at Jackson, taken only a handful of moments ago during the Clawdeen locker situation. Man, that ghoul types fast!

 

With a raised eyebrow, he tapped the iCoffin off and slid the phone in his pocket, outwardly unconcerned by it all… which set the mood for how the rest of the monsters in the corridor took the news; dismissing it as casually as he had, muttering that Spectra really was losing it these days, seeing things that weren’t there for the sake of sensationalism.

 

He just hoped Jackson and Holt took it with the same grain of salt as the rest of the school.

  



	2. Down The Rabbit-Hole

 

Frustratingly, Toralei and her twin-ions seemed to have vanished into thin air… like that one cat from _Alice In Wonderland_ \- which he _toooooootally didn’t watch…_ more than four or five times.

Groaning in frustration, Holt checked the time on his fully-charged iCoffin and made for the catacombs to talk to Operetta… who was probably preparing for their upcoming Musical Theory exam as well.

 

Huh, they still had a good forty-five minutes to go… so the party monster guessed they had enough time to talk about their potential future prom participation; both him asking her out as his pseudo date now that Jacky had signed up for the Toralei experience, and also running the schedules past the other. Catty Noir was also to sing, but she and Operetta had coordinated their set times already… it was a matter of working out when he was supposed to perform, when he could dance… and when Jackson got a chance to go to their own Prom.

 

The air was dank, and occasionally fetid, but for the most part the catacombs were actually really well ventilated and pleasant. The Daughter of The Phantom had helpfully carved secretive sigils into the walls for those who came to seek her, marking out the path to tread and where not to place your feet… booby-traps from centuries ago still lingered under several of the ancient stone slabs and they were NOT a thing you wanted to trigger off.

 

Hauntingly beautiful organ music wound outwards through the many corridors towards him, a greeting and warning in one; for a moment, the Hyde strained to hear if the other monster was, perhaps, singing along. No monster worth their unlife wanted to get within range of that live, on unlive, whatever applied. That is to say, while Operetta’s voice was a glorious thing to hear recorded, it also tended to drive the majority of monsters crazy… and the rest took days to snap out of their overly-agreeable stupors.

 

He and Jackson might be unique, but neither wanted to see if they fell under either category, not just yet, that is… his alter-ego was adamant about trying it one day... _For (Mad) Science_.

 

They’d hurdle that flame pit when they came to it, Holt supposed, tapping his knuckles against a large unusually coloured red brick in the middle of an otherwise yellow stone wall. The sound carried, as it was designed to, and the music ceased almost immediately after; the lovely lilac monster calling back, “Y’all can come in now, I ain’t singing at the moment… too stressed.”

 

She already knew it was him, somehow; giving credence to Holt’s unvoiced idea that perhaps there existed a series of concealed cameras or mirrors that gave the musical monster a wider view of those entering her realm. It was plausible. Sort of.

 

“Now, now… to what do I owe the pleasure of your company this fine day, Holt?” Operetta smiled, standing away from her large pipe organ with hands on hips. Musical Theory notes were strewn off to one side, as if flung there haphazardly…

 

“I… just need to talk to someone right now, Operetta… also, we need to get a few things about Friday’s Prom all straightened out… cause I gotta work Jacky in around my sets, and the dances I promised various mansters and ghouls.” he replied, taking a seat on the plushy red couch in the center of the large chamber.

 

Concerned, she came and plopped down beside him, sprawling out like a starfish. “That technical stuff can wait, just for now… whatever’s bugging you right now looks to be a real humdinger if that thundercloud you’re wearing for a face is anything to go by. Are you and Jackson fighting again… or is it you-know-who?”

 

“N-... well, sort of yes to that last one. Look, I don’t know why, but I just found out Jackson’s agreed to go with Toralei… and I don’t know why, but it sits wrong. It’s like she’s up to something and I haven’t worked it out yet, it’s harshing my ability to enjoy anything right now.” His knee bounced up and down as he fidgeted; Operetta watched the ceiling shake for a minute, undeterred by her moving pillow.

 

“And… you-know-who?” she eventually prodded, wondering if this was going anywhere good.

 

“So, they _de-fang-itely_ like us back… from what I could get outta them, it looked like they might’ve been going to ask us to go, but Toralei swooped in seconds before and scored a touchpoint goal or whatever it is.” The DJ huffed, emphatically waving his arms around as Operetta giggled.

 

“Uh, hun? Pretty sure that’s not how any sport I ever heard of works… but that does suck, cause I tell you what, that boy has been pining after you two for a while before he and Cleo ever broke up. She’s not that much better, neither. Queen of the Nile, maybe, but Queen of Subtlety? PLEASE. Or maybe that’s the longing talking…” Operetta sighed deeply, “Look at you and me, both wanting after monsters who may never be able to admit they want us back.”

 

Amused, Holt ruffled her hair, earning an indignant shriek of laughter and a swat across the arm. “We’ll get there at some point, but I’m pretty sure that Musical Theory exam we have in say, twenty minutes, is of greater concern right now. We’ll discuss the set listings after, okay? Today is my day to have Lunch, then Jackson has regular Biteology, so we gotta get this sorted out already.”

 

Their iCoffins, collectively, buzzed.

 

Operetta managed to fish hers out first, tapping the screen… and ending up in a fit of giggles. “I think you two are fretting over nothing, Holt. Damn, just look at that boy’s face when he stares at the two’a you.”

 

Suddenly desperate to see what she meant, he nearly flings the phone out of his pocket and through the ceiling, in haste. Why were his fingers shaking?  Jackson was supposed to be the more skittish side to them, after all… but then, neither of them were completely apart from the other, more a mix with some traits heightened or lacking in generally equal amounts. Literally yin and yang… thus the tattoo no-one bar Operetta knew existed.

 

Well, Operetta and everyone who happened to bear witness to The Incident With the Feather Boas and the soundtrack to FROZEN…  Jackson had really _‘Let it Go’_ indeed.

  
  


Flame-coloured eyes beheld the screen, and something inside went white-hot with… gods, what was this emotion? It was stronger than anything he’d ever felt before, actually, like his heart wanted to fling itself outta his chest and run around the room. Was it hot in here? _Was he blushing?_ It felt like he was blushing. This was like Frankie Fine times a thousand.

 

Scooting away quickly, the musical ghoul retrieved the squirt bottle she kept around in case certain people needed to calm down, and sprayed him once, twice, three times.

“Alright lover-boy, take a deep breath and don’t go immolating my favourite couch… I’d say, your problems are just about over in the _figure out if he likes us back_ department. Though the Toralei thing might throw a big old bone in the meat grinder… not sure what we can do, ‘cept maybe I promise to keep an eye on her best I can when Jackson’s out and about. For all we know… he’s being the devious little creature he is for some plan he hasn’t warned you about in advance.”

 

“Maybe you’re right… and thanks, I needed to… tell someone.” He grinned up at her, expression shining with a type of love that wasn’t romantic… but just as deeply felt, and reciprocated.

 

“Aw, you’ll make me blush… now come on, we need to get upstairs and in our seats five minutes before everything starts up, because old Madam Shriek will lose her mind if we’re late to this exam. And it’s a bit of a journey upwards, specially in these here shoes… damn if they aren’t stunning and comfortable on solid ground, but add in a few dozen flights of stairs, and you start questioning why you ever bought the darn things.” She sighed, looking down a split second longer, then snapping her head up to locate wherever it was her exam-gear might have ended up.

 

Holt already had his on him, Jackson made it up the week before… all the items they were allowed to have, and also their iCoffin -usually banned- because the only other way to ensure he continued to exist through the entire exam was by playing music the whole time and a stereo might mess up the other students. Most of the time, the music was just background noise, actually, which might seem odd to anyone else… but it was totally true,as weird as it sounded.

 

“Aha, there it is!” she cried triumphantly, hoisting it above her head like it was Simba in the opening of _The Lion King_ … er, which he also _totally hadn’t watched_ after he’d found Jackson’s secret stash of Disney DVDS they were supposed to have given to charity years ago. She snagged his hand on the way through as he pocketed their iCoffin, wiping his face with a free hand to get rid of the majority of the water.

“Run, run, run little man… gotta make it to that exam!”

 

And so, the pair set off on the gruelling uphill jog towards their Musical Theory finals… Holt only recalling, as they reached the classroom door with ten seconds to spare before perusal time, that he’d completely forgotten to ask Operetta to be his friend-date for Prom.

 

_Ah well_ , he thought, slinging himself into a desk, _I can always ask her at Lunch…_

 

Then his attention, like that of every other student in the room, turned to the literal stack of papers before him as the exam began.

 

**-**

 

Growling under her breath, Clawdeen watched Deuce draw closer to her, mind replaying the last ten minutes or so over and over. Had that really just happened?

 

And… had it been her imagination, or had -just for a flickering second- the Gorgon looked just as devastated as she’d felt when he found out Jackson was now going to this upcoming Friday’s Prom with Toralei?

 

Of all the things to happen today, this very day when she’d been so close to working up enough of her usually abundant moxie to go and outright ask that strangely gore-geous werekat to the damn Prom as something more than friends. The locker door still clenched in her fist made a sad groan and crumpled just a tiny bit further…

 

“Is… now a bad time for you, babe?” Deuce asked, cautiously, pointedly looking down at the locker and then back up. “Because I can do this later if you want to…”

 

“No, just give me a second, I’m just so-... HOW could this happen?  I was SO CLOSE, and then THIS!” she snarls, then shuts her eyes and takes a deep, calming breath. Finding that place of inner peace her parents had taught her to look for as a child, and letting that flow out over the hurt panging through her soul. “Sorry, it’s… a bit of a blow to be disappointed when you were so close to…”

 

He was nodding, looking around to make sure no one was listening in on their conversation before responding, “So… Toralei, then? For a second I was worried we were going to have to fight over Jackson and Holt, but this is better… y’know, except for the part where they’re going with one another to the one thing we were both aiming to take them to separately.”

 

“How did y-... is it that obvious?” Clawdeen asked, suddenly feeling very old and defeated. Two finals, one of which she was sure she’d failed, and now this crushing emotional burden, on top of it all?  It was a wonder she was still Unliving!

  
  


He seemed to think about it a moment, then shook his head… much to the displeasure of his headsnakes. “Not as much as you might think, it just takes one pining idiot to recognise another; and Cleo makes three in this boat of misery. Huh, who thought the former It-couple, and Monster High’s famous fashion designer would all end up on common ground, all commiserating over failed attempts to even express their affections for certain other mansters and ghouls?”

 

The ridiculousness of it all struck like a lightning bolt, and she laughed; simultaneously shoving the locker door back in it’s technical receptacle. “Well, yeah… but what are we supposed to do now? My crush is going with half of yours, and Cleo is in the Ghouls’ bathroom devastated that her crush is rumoured to be aiming to ask out the other half of yours. It’s a freaking great mess, isn’t it?” she sighed, wishing fervently things were somewhat simpler for once.

 

“There’s not much we CAN do right now, but I am kinda worried about Jackson… I mean, Toralei’s a great ghoul, but she’s devious. Sort of feel like asking him to take her was a cover for whatever plot she has going right now… and eight lives out of nine, it’s not a good thing.” The gorgon rubbed his face, as if tired. “Watch and wait, I suppose…”

 

Frustrated, but seeing the inherent logic behind the statement, Clawdeen nodded and dragged her bag over a shoulder with a minor grunt at the weight -why did they need so many textbooks again?

 

Whatever it was the ghoul of her dreams had planned… they’d be watching, waiting, and ready to counteract whatever terrible-awful she unleashed, within a moment’s notice. It was all they could do.

 

She marched off towards Study Howl without a glance behind, leaving Deuce to follow her strategic retreat with his eyes… before making a swift exit of his own to ponder their next move.

 

**-**

 

 


	3. UnDead Ringer

Lunch after the exam had been a cordial affair, neither talking much past those weird pleasantries and commiserations every student runs through; both felt rather brain-dead at this point. Why on earth, _or the fiery pits under it_ , did Madam Shriek decide to give them a forty-seven page Musical Theory exam?

“She’s evil, hon… like nothing we ever seen before.” Operetta had groaned, leaving the room with hollow eyes and traipsing towards the Creepateria. He followed, not feeling enough spark to respond just yet… thankfully finding sympathetic friends waiting at their usual table, willing to get them food and drink, so they didn't have to move after sinking down.

Who knew the tables were so very soft and comfortable?

****  
  


Someone had prodded them awake and shoved something edible at them, which they devoured mechanically for the first few moments until something approaching full awareness returned in the presence of food. Those around the table didn’t look much better, either chatting quietly, or frantically flipping through notes and textbooks for answers they thought they’d need in their next lesson or exam.

The thought struck him again, as it had before entering the classroom what felt like eons ago, and he turned to meet Operetta’s tired smile.

“Course I will, hon,” she said before he even formulated the question mentally. “We’ve got to stick together in times like these, right? Also, carpooling is going to make it easier to keep an eye on… you-know-who.”

Holt mustered the energy to flash a grin back, he knew there was a reason he loved this freaky-fabulous ghoul.

He might have fallen asleep on the table shortly after that, leaving Operetta to curl up next to the party monster and nap alongside. Too tired to leave a message for his alter ego, Holt just hoped that if, and more likely _when_ , Jackson woke up on the creepateria tabletop… he would have enough sense to not assume the worst.

The bell rang at some point, but the others let them sleep on… they were exhausted after all.

**-**

Fifteen minutes into Biteology, Deuce was getting a bit worried. There was no sign of Jackson, nor Operetta… and he knew neither of them had a Final right now, or they’d _all_ be taking it - as the only places their schedules were different was in the subjects of Musical Theory and Practice. When Deuce had Ancient Runes instead.

They were marked down as absent until someone’s memory sparked and let the substitute creature know that the pair were actually asleep in the Creepateria right now. Almost immediately, he volunteered to go and get them; Toralei echoing his statement a split-second afterwards. Both were dispatched to find their absent classmates by the unamused Mr Lou Zarr, who, at this point, had learned not to cross the Son of Medusa after last time he’d taken a class with the gorgon in it. He hadn’t de-stoned for nearly a full day afterwards.

****  
  


He strode down the hall at an easy walking pace, it was unlikely Holt or Jackson and Operetta would leap up and run off to gods-know-where in the few moments it took them to get to the Creepateria. In direct contrast, Toralei darted all about him, like a cat in a laser-pointer testing facility… she didn’t say anything, exactly, but her expression seemed to make it clear she knew something he did not. This was not the time to rise to her bait.

Opening the doors, it became apparent some monster or monsters had taken the time to carefully place the pair underneath their table, so they wouldn’t get kinks in their spines from being bent over a table for a long period of time. The gorgon had to pull sharply away from that thought, trying to ignore the gleeful expression the Werekat leader threw in his direction; moving past her to kneel by the sleepers, way unimpeded by benches or chairs that were piled on another nearby table.

“Hey, Jackson? Operetta?” he called, quietly, shaking each one a little. Holt’s headphones were skewed slightly around Jackson’s neck, so they must have swapped at some point while sleeping…

The pair stir, but ultimately ignore the well-meaning manster trying to wake them up, deciding sleep was a better alternative than actual consciousness right now.

Well, he couldn’t argue that… but they couldn’t sleep here, right now… because they were kind of meant to be in Biteology at this very instant. Leeway existed for exhausted students, especially at this time of year, but any longer and the Headless Headmistress might have to get involved...

“Alrighty, _Plan A_ failed… let’s try **B** ,” calls the werekat, behind him. Deuce doesn’t even have a chance to ask what that might entail, because a split-second later Toralei slams together a pair of lunch trays just in the vicinity of his head… simultaneously scaring the scales off of him, and forcing the sleepers to jolt upright in alarm, looking every which-way for the threat.

“ _Wakey-wakey, rise and shine… if we get back to class in the next thirty seconds, we’ll avoid detention and everything’ll be fine._ ” chanted the feline monster somewhat disjointedly, using the trays like impromptu pompoms.

He looked at the startled, but groggy pair. “Sorry about the rude wake-up call, but she’s totally right, we have to get you down to the Biteology classroom  before the substitute comes looking for us.”

Jackson’s eyes went wide, “Oh no, did we sleep through lunch?”

Operetta attempted to pat him arm reassuringly and missed a few times as she yawned. “Don’t fret none, Jackson, it was an accident… and it’s not like we have anything to do in that class for the rest of the term, right?”

“C’mon lover-boy, up- _up-UP_!” Toralei shouted, dragging Jackson out from under the table and upright by his left arm. Deuce extended a hand to Operetta, reenacting the previous movement far slower and less haphazardly than the other, to give her a chance to gain her balance. Although, he was rather suspecting that the Werekat had dizzied the human-featured monster deliberately, so she might catch and cling to him when he inevitably nearly fell over from the intense headrush.

He mused on the situation as they jogged slowly back to class, wondering if he could stand anymore of these extravagant displays of affection between Toralei and Jackson.

Probably not… but it’s not like he had a choice now, was it?

Friday suddenly seemed a long, long way away.

****  
  


**-**

Clawdeen had spent the remainder of the week just about at breaking point, watching overly-elaborate displays of affection between the pair. Oh, nothing lewd, not even any kissing… but there was an intimacy in the way they would hold hands, lean in close… in how Toralei would curl around Jackson, tail wrapping tightly up one arm or the other as Meowlody and Purrsephone flopped down to either side. Things she would never, ever, EVER admit to wanting so damn badly it was almost obscene.

She might just be about to lose her mind.

****  
  


The social scene had descended to a cold, frozen-over level of Hell when Cleo found out the person she was not-so-shriekretly crushing on _had_ agreed to go to the Prom with one DJ Holt Hyde; whose alter ego already had a date with the person the she-werewolf had designs upon. It was a right old mess that gave anyone trying to contemplate it a strong headache.

How had this snowballed out of control so quickly?

****  
  


On the upside, in the interim, she and Deuce had come to a compromise… in order to be there and ready to respond to any chaos Toralei threw down, the pair would go together to the event. Like a friends situation, they assured Cleo, who was pretty lost in her own world right now… De Niles are not usually De-niled anything they set their (canopic-jar-encased) hearts upon; so this whole thing was fairly hard for the volatile child of Royal Egypt.

It was sort of like a consolation prize neither of them truly wanted.

Sure, Deuce thought Clawdeen was a great ghoul, strong and fierce… but she wasn’t Jackson or Holt.. and certainly nothing like Cleo; in the same way he could never be Toralei for her.

****  
  


As the end of the week drew nearer and nearer, tensions rose to a nearly intolerable level. The trio snapped at each other more and more… frustrated at themselves, at Toralei and Jackson and Holt and Operetta, at the Prom itself, at the world for turning sideways when they thought they were on top of things just this once. Examinations with more than one of them in the same room became almost impossible; it was as if a miasma of thick, negative energy inhabited the area they all coexisted in quite entropically.

****  
  


By the time Friday rolled around, all examinations and finals completed, it was just about all-out war that no one really wanted to win, lose or give ground on.

Clawdeen had channelled her frustrations into creating freaky fabulous fashions for her ghoulfriends and their dates, each outfit uniquely tailored to the others in a way that really drew out and highlighted all of their best features. Tackling the challenges of using the right fabrics for the right ghoul or guy really helped ward off the deep primal instincts that demanded she go and challenge Jackson, _who logically she knew was probably doing it solely because Toralei had asked him_ , for the werekat’s affections.

Deuce, she knew, wasn’t faring much better… and Cleo was using all her royal comportment not to simply go and find an amulet with which to exorcise their resident gossip columnist; who refused to cease trailing the other two, hoping to get insight into ‘the next big thing at Monster High’. Well, Spectra wasn’t wrong… there was definitely going to be sparks flying soon enough when everyone found out the reasons, plural, that their former power-couple had dissolved.

She slammed her newly-replaced locker door shut, pasting on a fake smile so that Draculaura wouldn’t sense something was up and waylay her; she needed to get home and get all the outfits out for the ghouls and Clawd. Bringing them all to school would have been problematic, and a waste of time… seeing as every one of her ghoulfriends was getting ready at the Wolf household later on. So Clawdeen had only brought those for the guys and Operetta; as they were doing their own thing.

Holt and Jackson had separate outfits, only because she wasn’t one hundred percent how those two worked, exactly… and didn’t want to leave one mostly-naked on the dancefloor if their clothes didn’t translate on over. Even if it meant she had to carry extra weight on the way into school this morning, Clawd too distracted with her closest ghoulfriend to bother asking if she needed a hand… ugh, siblings.

Naturally, she’d let Deuce deliver them directly to Holt, who was out right now and heading to Music to see how they’d done on that downright-evil exam they’d been forced to take on Tuesday. The werewolf hadn’t needed her hyper-sensitive hearing to work out that the Hyde was pleased with her works… pretty sure everyone over in the normie half of town heard the loud exclamations of excitement.

At least half of her job was outta the way already, now for the hard part…

The fashionista sighed to the universe at large, swung her backpack on and trudged down the sparsely populated hallway towards the entrance; already mentally applying her make-up for tonight’s big dance event… and doing everything in her power not to think about how the person she most wanted to enjoy it with… would be dancing in the arms of someone else.

**-**

Thudding reached his ears as someone pounded on the front door of the Gorgon house.

“Yo, you ready to go in there, snake-boy?” Clawdeen called, voice still powerful and commanding even through the layer of carved marble. He hastily fought with his scale-green tie for another second before giving up on the whole thing entirely and stuffing it in a pocket for later… how the hex was anyone supposed to work those?!

Racing down the hall and just about reenacting _the Matrix_ to slide on under his mumster’s attempts to get a photo of him, pre-Prom, Deuce made it down to the door in record time. Wrenching it open, he smiled at the stunningly-attired she-werewolf, “Present and accounted for, your Alphaness…” he paused, “Nope, can’t think of any comparison right now that would tell you how furbulous you look in that…”

“You just did, and thanks… I made it myself, but then again… I also made Jackson and Holt their outfits, so you can thank me again after you see that. Come to think of it…” she mused, pursing her lips thoughtfully and tapping a painted claw to her cheek, “I might have just made their pants a tiny bit too figure-huggingly tight… oops, measurements sometimes slip my mind!”

He just about fell over, torn between kissing the fashionista on her glossy gold-covered lips, and hugging her. Clawdeen was truly a goddess walking amongst them… how did he ever get her for an ally?

“Have I mentioned I love you, recently?” he eventuated,  and she laughed in response as the door swung shut behind them. Clawd and the others were all waiting by the curb, crammed into Draculaura’s new car, which made it a tight squeeze but it worked somehow.

“Yeah, yeah… no offense, but it’s not you that I’m aiming to impress in this dress.” Clawdeen responds, using a sweeping arm gesture to encompass her outfit in it’s intricate entirety.

Huffing in amusement, Deuce grins back, “Well I doubt that furbulous feline will be able to look away once you walk in that door… if she’s anything but impressed, then she’s beneath you. Count on it, babe.”

A genuine smile lit up her face then, as they climbed into the car to many intrigued stares at the unusual coupling of Deuce and Clawdeen- practical polar opposites. “Oh you do say the sweetest things to me, snake-boy…”

And they took off at breakneck speeds, hoping to make it to the Prom before all the good parking spaces were gone. It was going to be an interesting night indeed..


	4. Murder On The Dancefloor

Music was already pumping out of the catacombs, along with a small storm of dry ice vapour, by the time the majority of the school arrived; Holt Hyde spinning the discs and turning it up before there was even a party to start.

He was an enthusiastic monster, alright?

**-**

Earlier, Jackson had picked up both their dates to get them here an hour early to do a final sound-check on the equipment. Holt was always eternally grateful to have an alter-ego that knew his way around electronics, because they probably could have _electrocuted the dancefloo_ r if Jackson hadn’t located the short and replaced it earlier that day during the preliminary check.

The ride here had been… amicable, well, it could have been worse.

The werekitty was preening, sans her feline entourage this time, it seemed; Meowlody and Purrsephone were elsewhere, going with two members of the Casketball team to tonight’s big party. She made a point to curl her tail possessively around Jackson’s arm and look to Operetta, clearly setting her boundaries in place… while he was Jackson, he was hers… and the musical monster would have to deal with it.

In response, Operetta just scoffed back a laugh and crossed her arms, maskless-eyebrow raised in an expression that somehow communicated _‘Are You Serious?’_ better than any verbal iteration. There were dents in the steering wheel from where Jackson had gripped just that tiny fraction too-tight, forgetting himself, as the tensions rose… yet the casual external observer would see nothing more than two ghouls staring avidly at one another.

“Your dress is… really nice tonight,” Operetta had eventually ended the silence with, aiming for friendly despite the nonsense she was up against. Indeed, the other was attired in something that both Jackson and Operetta knew would immediately catch the eye of one lupine regulation hottie, just as it was intended to.

Toralei seemed genuinely shocked to be receiving a compliment, and fumbled for a response.  

“I-... thank you? Your new mask really sets off your outfit as well. I do hope… a certain Queen of Egypt we both know you’re after, notices how well it accentuates your eyes.” The Werekat responded, actually quite sincerely, also shriekretly loving how Operetta flushed at the mention of she-who-must-not-be-crushed-upon.

Silence had descended again, but by then it was far more comfortable… so parking and striding into the school was far easier than one might expect when you were bringing along two dates to the same dance.

Still, the ghouls sat by one another on the provided seating as Jackson went over the equipment one last time; they went over the set-list, pointing out where and when they might have the best chances to share their dates over the course of the evening. Holt was on three times, and slower songs were scheduled for certain key points… with warning, of course, it wasn’t fair to continuously spring the transformation on those two… one of them would end up sleeping under a table (again) or something out of exhaustion.

However, Catty Noir doing her performances provided a chance for the Daughter of the Phantom to dance with Holt, or more accurately, they could dance with one another while keeping an eye on their actual targets.

_Things sure were a mess right now…_ Operetta had sighed internally, thinking back on what she knew from the last few days. Jackson had met her eyes from the stage, seeming to be thinking the same thing.

****  
  


Deuce, who wanted Holt and Jackson, was going with Clawdeen -that had been big, confused news on the Ghostly Gossip blog for the last few days.  While Operetta went with Holt, so the pair could keep an eye on their collective... er, _archaeological interests._

Toralei seemed to be going with Jackson for… whatever her reasons were, despite the craving looks Clawdeen was always throwing her way; and Deuce was… being very cold-blooded about the whole thing.

It was like the _Circle of Life_ met _confused monster teenage hormones_ , and fell off it’s axis irrevocably. Everyone was paired up wrong, from her perspective, and who knew what the Werekitty was even up to at this point...

****  
  


Then, on came the music with a pounding fury that nearly unseated her, Toralei hissing in surprise and having to dig her claws out of the chair she was now standing upon in alarm. Holt stood at the DJ booth, resplendent in his new outfit, “Sorry ladies… Jacky-boy set it just a bit too loud this time around… makes the change quicker, didn’t mean to spook you.”

“That ain’t nothing, a little scare is good for you on occasion,” Operetta said, casually waving it off as if it were indeed, no big deal. Toralei glared a fraction of a second longer before settling down again, smoothing her outfit as if the whole scenario had simply...never happened.

“Okay if I run through the first sequences, right now?” he calls back, checking the time and noting a full quarter of an hour to go before anyone is going to begin turning up apart from maybe Catty and her date.

“You go right on ahead, flame-boy… but remember, your other half is all mine when the music stops…” Toralei purred, smiling predatorily. Well, that didn’t allay anyone’s fears, but the DJ chose not to challenge her then… instead spinning his first compilation and fidgeting with the sound until it felt right. The acoustics of the catacombs really helping to make it feel like the dancefloor was actually thrumming like a musical heartbeat beneath them.

“You know,” said the werekat above the music, just loud enough for Operetta to hear, “I do think tonight is going to be quite a lot of fun… don’t you?”

“Uh, sure…” the lilac monster grinned back, suddenly feeling like she was awaiting the apocalypse with nothing more than a rusty old umbrella and sheer determination for protection, “Seems it’s gonna be a great night.”

**-**

Parking took a lot longer than originally intended, as more vehicles than Monster High had ever seen before cluttered up the school lot… despite everyone appearing to have carpooled intensively. Eventually, Draculaura found a space somewhere down the street, and everyone got out to walk back to the school as a group.

Deuce and Clawdeen walked side-by-side for the most part, descending into the catacombs and following where the thumping music led… to discover the fruition of all of _one Miss Frankie Stein_ ’s hard work. Decorations and streamers covered the walls, comfortable chairs spread down one wall at intervals between the columns; Operetta and Toralei were already sitting on one such plush seat, apparently trying to converse.

There was a large dance area, but also a series of tables and chairs at the periphery, near the entrance, that was meant as a rest-point for anyone who considered their dance moves too dangerous to bust out in close proximity to others. Food and punch sat on various crockery along  tables down the opposing wall to the couches, just enough out of the way that no one could slam into them accidentally; and various lights strobed here and there. All in all, it looked frightastic!

“Wow, I never thought it’d come out so well the way Frankie was stressing about it all the time,” Clawdeen whispered at him in awe, “Poor ghoul nearly tore her stitches out with all her nervous fretting… still, it looks great!”

They moved over to the couch directly around a column from Operetta and Toralei, quite deliberately, but managing to look casual enough about  it. Other monsters filtered in, in pairs, trios, small groups… only Miss Cleo de Nile burst in unaccompanied, with much fanfare and posturing. A brief side-glance showed that everyone, including her intended spectator, was watching the glistening golden beauty…

Clawdeen nearly burst out laughing when she heard Operetta drop out of a conversation mid-sentence to stare with wide eyes at the Daughter of Egypt. Good thing she’d eventually chosen to match the gold and aqua for the outfit, it really suited Cleo well… but then, everything did.

Tentatively, many began to get up and move out to the dancefloor, letting the rhythm sink into their bones; this wide-spread sudden dance epidemic also including Manny and Iris who apparently didn’t have the ability to do so between them… but they were a cute couple, moving around on the floor like that. She was a good influence on the Minotaur, and he gave her confidence.

Speaking of perfect matches… Holt had hurdled his DJ station to take Operetta for a spin around the dancefloor, passing by the watchful gaze of one Cleo de Nile far too many times to be coincidence. The werewolf was starting to wonder if the two musically-inclined monsters were trying to pull the same thing she and Deuce were up to… because if so, bravo, it was working and how!

Every moment they danced in close proximity, the more Cleo’s face fell into something dark and calculating… like her mind was working overtime to think of a way to deal with this scenario. The song began to dwindle down again, and just as Clawdeen contemplated dragging Deuce out to the floor for the next one… restless from all this sitting, she saw… well _maybe she didn’t,_ it had been a split-second of movement. But… did Operetta just wink at Cleo from over Holt’s shoulder?

Surely not!

****  
  


“ _Oooh, get ‘em ghoul…_ ” she whispered under her breath as a clearly shocked Cleo gaped, open-mouthed for a moment, then got up and began elbowing her way across the dancefloor towards where Operetta had been left on her own by the DJ for whatever strategic reason he had come up with to be elsewhere.  

She didn’t see what happened next, as a pair of gargoyles moved past, but the next time they had a clear view of proceedings, Cleo had the musical mistress dipped, hand tangled in that perfect magenta do, and was kissing the unlife out of her to raucous applause and surprised gasps.

The Queen of the Nile was not backwards about going forwards, after all.

****  
  


Spectra actually forgot herself and fell through the floor, across the chamber from all the action… and had to be fished out by Sirenia and Johnny Spirit. Overcome by what a scoop this was.

Holt let out a huge whoop, which surprised many because they’d thought he might be adverse to his date suddenly getting action from an entirely unlikely source, but instead he shouted, “ _This next one is for Miss De Nile and her hecka hot new ghoulfriend for finally getting together… seriously, the circling thing was getting awkward… love ya ladies!_ ”

A banging new sound crashed through the room as pounding music encouraged everyone still in the room to dance again, lights flickering on and off again in synch to the soundtrack.

****  
  
  


“One couple down,” Deuce said by her ear.

“...and Two to go,” she responded, taking the opportunity to peer around the column at the wide-eyed feline diva, Toralei; who was currently too fixated on what was happening on the dancefloor to notice she in turn was being watched. “Let’s do this…”

**-**

Slower music gently wound about the air following that explosive track, and the DJ faded away to reveal his alternate twin, who looked pretty damn hot in his new attire as well. Clawdeen had done an excellent job outfitting her ghouls and guyfriends this year, she’d be a captain of indust-shriek in the future, just you wait and see!

Toralei rose and sauntered up to meet him as Catty Noir prepared for her turn on the stage once the short series of slow songs had died down. Watching from over his pseudo-date’s shoulder, Deuce tried not to get too jealous… though Clawdeen did hiss and squeeze his wrist hard in retaliation as he subconsciously gripped too hard.

“Calm down, we got this, but you need to keep a cool head… huh, shouldn’t be too hard for you, snake-boy,” she jibed, beaming into his ear, like they were having a private lover’s confursation. Moving around the dance floor almost mechanically to the beat, both alternating between who was watching the werekat and her supposedly human date every few minutes; still no sign of whatever it was they assumed Toralei might do.

Neither of the twin-ions had been even close to their supposed leader all night long… which was confusing and concerning all in one neat little furball.

****  
  


Both were starting to feel a sinking dread that perhaps this was a genuine date situation, that there was no ulterior motive here except perhaps that the two liked each other and wanted to have a good time. As devastating as it felt to even think that… it seemed to be growing more and more accurate the longer this night wore on.

Toralei got them punch, Jackson dragged Operetta away from Cleo for a few minutes to go over details of her next set and whether she needed him to fix any of the lights or equipment before it was her turn, and the Queen of the Nile held forth in a long interview-confursation with Spectra.   
Part of which, they managed to overhear by virtue of being close enough at the time…

“...well _of course_ , there was Deuce, and _I do_ still love him in a special way… but not like this. The thing is, my dear, even when you see an attractive ghoul and somehow _can_ find the strength within yourself to contain the gay, a small part of you never seems to get a good enough handhold to control the bi… like tonight.” The Daughter of The Mummy laughed heartily at her little play on words. “Ah, but I have been watching Operetta for some time, and tonight seemed… most opportune.”

As they moved away, Spectra began spitting rapidfire questions at the other, who was majestically draped on one of the couches; languidly answering as her eyes followed Operetta’s movements around Jackson.

****  
  


“Well, Holt’s gonna be alone and dateless next time he gets a free moment… so you can make your move then, maybe?” Clawdeen said, snapping his attention back onto her as the dance wound down. He nodded against her, then reached up to detangle his snakes from where they were twining in her hairdo for the warmth; these catacombs must be pretty chilly on them… he was fine, though, as the fashionista had carefully layered his clothes for additional warmth.

“Or maybe…” he said, eyes watching the movements of those across the dancefloor near the stage with interest, “I can lay the foundations right now.”

She stepped aside, expertly stalking through the crowded area until  she’d disappeared from sight. The Gorgon kept his eyes focused on Jackson, who had separated from Operetta and was now appearing to look for Toralei amongst the others around him; making his approach just noticeable not to startle the other out of his pale skin.

Catching sight of him, Jackson smiled, “Oh, hey Deuce… having fun?”

“Yeah, the whole party’s pretty clawsome, actually… what about you?” came the response, which involved a certain amount of mental congratulation for not blurting out something embarrassing about how damn good those pants looked on him, and Holt, actually. But the other seemed fixated by something… oh, the front of his shirt… he followed the gaze and nearly laughed.

“Tell me you didn’t just fail to tie that, panic and shove it in your pocket?” laughed the normie-looking monster, reaching out to snag it. “Really, if ties are that much trouble, why not just ask for a hand?”

The safest response to that, thanks to his vivid imagination, was to remain silent. He let the other pluck the green strip of fabric out of his overcoat pocket and pop the of the white undershirt, carefully tying the tie with an intense sort of concentration he usually got in tests… or during casketball practice. The gorgon felt a trio of tentative pats on his chest and looked down to note that the tie was now perfectly done and in alignment, falling where it was supposed to.

“There you go, I really need to teach you guys how to tie these things at some point… Heath was nearly completely entangled in his earlier, you should hear the voicemail we received. I didn’t know a piece of fabric could reduce someone to hysterical tears, but… now we do.” Jackson looked like he wanted to laugh, but the whole situation had apparently been a little traumatising if his expression was anything to go by.

Before Deuce could open his mouth again to respond, a sultry voice broke into their confursation.

“Well hello there, Deuce, aren’t you little mister popular tonight?” Toralei grinned, coming up and handing Jackson a glass of punch. “Not to be rude, but I need to steal this adorable little manster away for another dance in a second, you know, while I still can…”

Her head tilted towards the stage where Catty was standing, adjusting her microphone stand, indicating there was urgency about the whole thing.

Jackson took a sip of his drink, then moved to put it over on a side table out of the way, before returning. “Sorry, but she’s right… Catty’s voice is lovely, but when she gets near a microphone she brings out the… party monster in me.”

Oh, that was a terrible pun, Deuce vaguely wondered how long Jackson had been waiting to use it as Toralei burst into a fit of uncharacteristically genuine giggles. She swatted him on the arm, “Oh you two… now c’mon let’s dance right meow!”

“See you later, Deuce!” Jackson waved as Toralei dragged him into the throng, leaving the gorgon to admire just how well Clawdeen had tailored those pants to suit the Mad Scientist-in-the-making. Then, he was gone…

Clawdeen appeared by his side almost instantly, “That went well, didn’t it?” she said, eyes fixated on a spot several meters away that was apparently the space the two had taken up dancing in. She grinned and nudged him with a shoulder, “Hey, did you see the way his hands shook when he was doing up your tie?”

“He-... his hands? Wait, what?” he spluttered, glasses nearly falling off as he turned back to look at the she-werewolf. She rolled her eyes in exasperation, but her grin became almost frightening in response.

“You have a chance, is what I’m saying, you dorky reptilian!” she hissed, lowering her pitch as others moved closer in search of food. She began to drag him out on the floor, and Deuce began wondering what was with him always attracting forceful ghouls, when she froze… grip going tight and claws pricking his skin uncomfortably.

Rather than ask, he followed her gaze, and felt everything inside go a lot colder than usual.

There, on the periphery of the dancefloor, were Jackson and Toralei, far closer than perhaps was necessary for this particular dance scene… pressed together like puzzle pieces, or magnets, or whatever metaphor usually came up in situations where one party practically adhered it’s damn self to another in a suggestive fashion.

Her hair obscured them for a moment as they ceased dancing, Toralei moving in close, so close… she seemed to whisper something in his ear… and neither of them saw the rest because they were too busy retreating to somewhere far less public to have a minor meltdown.

**-**

 

Her breath was warm and kittenish on his cheek, soft ginger hair tickling at his exposed throat, uncomfortably close to one another as they were it became impossible to continue dancing as she whispered in his ear, “ _They’re watching us right now…_ ”

He almost wanted to turn and look, but that might ruin the illusion. Instead, he grinned down at her shoulder, before tilting his head up to whisper back, “And are they-...?”

“Oh you better believe it, baby blue eyes, that gorgon hasn’t been able to keep his eyes off’a you since we got here… not in those tight pants.” She felt his blush without even seeing it. Already noting how wide and intently focused the werewolf femme fatale’s eyes had grown, moving with her as she swayed about. “Mmm… hook, line and sink-...oh no.”

They split apart with enough time to watch the two main reasons they’d concocted this whole scheme for, leave the party with surprisingly casual speed; not managing to tip anyone else off that something was wrong.

Catty was just about to start, Holt definitely couldn’t afford to go running off right now as he was expected to provide backing music for her set… Jackson bit his lip in indecision. Toralei took charge, “Alright you… two… stay here, and I’m going to try and head them off… be back soon.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek as the music ended, and darted off.

****  
  


“How are you doing, Monster High?” rang out around the chamber as Catty gestured magnanimously to her already-cheering crowd of ghouls, mansters and a few that fit neither category. “Let’s get this party rocking again! Who’s with me?”

Screaming voices answered, and her first pre-loaded track began to thrum through the speakers… in anticipation of Jackson and Holt not making it back to the stage on time for it; those around Jackson took a quick step back as he burst into scintillating, yet hot, flames. Holt reappearing with a shout.

The DJ taking a quick assessment of location and crowd density before unhurriedly getting back to the stage and bounding into his booth, ready for the next song…

A faint impression of _concern, failure_ and _wrong_ , echoing through him from Jackson’s end… like the tail end of a scream only just heard above the music. There was not much he could do about that right now, though… so he turned his attention back to the music, and kept a surreptitious eye on the crowd.


	5. DJ Got Us Falling In Love

Commiserating in an abandoned classroom, the unhappy pseudo-couple of the dance tried to think of another course of action to take… there had to be SOMETHING!

Operetta and Cleo got their happy ending, and the whole thing was met with raucous applause by their peers… so where was theirs? Okay, so perhaps the real world didn’t function that way, which made unlife practically unbearable sometimes… but this was one of those times when it downright sucked harder than a starved vampire in a bloodbank.

****  
  


Pounding music had long-since returned to the catacombs by the time Deuce finally sighed and stood up from where he’d been sitting on a desktop, staring at nothing. “I’m going to go back… we can’t just wait here the whole night feeling bad about it, right? We might have been wrong or… I dunno... “

“Ugh, stop being so positive about this… it was unmi-stake-ably couple interaction going on right there, you think Jackson would allow that sort of thing just to make you jealous?” she snapped back, fists wrinkling her dress as she clutched it tightly. With a sigh, Clawdeen deflated, “Yeah, so maybe you’re right… I just-... you go on ahead a bit, and I’ll be there in a minute.”

The gorgon seemed torn between staying and going, but she waved him off, leaving the classroom door ajar… and pretending not to see the small feline shadow that darted in behind him. Turning away and striding back towards the catacombs, come what may… he was going to get to the bottom of this whole convoluted mess they’d made.

**-**

_Tears were not a thing that an alpha female like herself could ever afford to waste_ , as her mother always said when she was nothing more than a tiny were-pup who’d accidentally hurt herself by being as overeager and adventurous as her older brothers. _Unless shed over the loss of another, they are weakness, and could lead others to believe that you are unfit to be a leader… channel that sadness into something more constructive, use your tears to fortify the strength of your character._

Well, perhaps this time... it might be alright to let the painful ball of sadness bubbling away in her breast break… gush forth in a highly un-wolf-like torrent of tears and sound. Technically, no one had died tonight, but it felt like she’d lost something precious… a chance, a dream, a silly little crush she’d let get out of hand to the point where it felt like a burning inferno was blazing through her everytime she set eyes on the Werekat.

Stupid. Stupid. _STUPID_.

Ugh. How could she have let this happen? One silly little flash of attraction to someone whose monster-type had been at odds with her own for longer than even the feud with the vampires had been going on.  

Her sharp, painted claws  threatened to go through the carefully-embroidered fabric of the voltageous outfit she had made, at the unpleasant twist in her stomach; a physical means to try and stave off the way her insides began to ache as disappointment swept through the entirety of her body in a wave. Her dress might be ruined if she didn’t stop soon, but...did it really matter?

Could she even go back in there now, seeing as it felt like the entire night was a failure?

Angrily, she slammed a hand into the nearest desktop. This was not who she was, not how she was supposed to feel damn it… Clawdeen Wolf was a confident, loud, cocky and self-assured werewolf fashionista who kicked tail,  took names and looked fierce in all situations!

This… other, this imposter of herself that sat here now… on the desk of an empty, unlit classroom and cradled the beginnings of a broken heart while fighting back tears that might threaten the sanctity of her make-up… this was not who she was.

****  
  


But right now… it was exactly who she wanted to be. Someone who could feel this and let it go, not bottle it up inside and feel it threaten to shatter her soul everytime Toralei passed in the corridor or they shared a class, like she would have to.

No, this wasn’t who she was. A she-werewolf in her position could not afford to allow for self-doubt or pity, heartaches were to be shrugged off and crushes tossed on the sacrificial fire of her pride. As the sound of tearing filled the room, a pair of hands grabbed into her own with a soft, _“No… don’t…_ ” that made the devastated fashionista snap her head up to stare in shock at the face of the person she’d very nearly cried over.

****  
  


Toralei was looking at her with such pain in her eyes, tail drooping and ears flat; like a naughty kitten that had gotten someone else hurt in her hijinks. For a long moment, they stared at one another… the only sound seeming to be Toralei’s soft pants as if she’d dashed in with adrenaline thrumming under her skin; the ragged gulps and gasps echoing through the room signifying her lupine counterpart was staving off tears.

Internally, Clawdeen was cursing every god that Cleo and Deuce had ever mentioned existing, questioning why _of all people_ to find her in this state it had to be… her. What had she done to offend the universe so greatly that she deserved this?

Surprisingly, Toralei made the first move, deft orange fingers carefully and gently stroking at the backs of her own… coaxing stiff fingers into relaxing enough for the werekat to untangle them from the fabric of the dress with delicate finesse. A few small tears were pitted the fabric here and there, but overall they shouldn’t be too noticeable when she was walking around… if anyone asked, she could say it was done for the aesthetic effect.

That done, she gracefully crawled her way up on the desktop around Clawdeen, ending up sitting with knees to either side of the werewolf’s supple thighs… effectively trapping the the other there; but rather than what the fashionista had expected as the next logical progression, with their faces so very close that is, something entirely _other_ occured.

Wrapping her arms tentatively around Clawdeen, in an odd contrast to her previous behaviour, Toralei buried her head in the crook of the werewolf’s neck and shoulder, purring hard enough to resonate deep within the other’s chest. Almost like a second heartbeat, actually.

It was almost like… an apology, and comfort, wrapped in one.

Unsure how to respond in this exact situation, she raised a hand and petted the werekat on the back, taking a moment to appreciate the design on the fabric as a distraction from reality. At the touch, Toralei raised her head and leaned backwards haphazardly, tail twitching, eyes both wider and wetter than usual.

Clawdeen snatched at her, instinct setting off her protective urges when the other leaned back, some part of the primal wolf part in her mind screaming that the troublemaker was going to fall off the desk and hurt herself. Resulting in the awkward position of Toralei sitting as she was, with Clawdeen’s hands clutching her waist with some force, wide lupine eyes fixated on her.

It would help if Toralei’s expression didn’t belie the fact that this was exactly how she wanted this to go.

****  
  


“I… Clawdeen, apologies aren’t a thing I’m good at in general, but I’m really, really sorry… we never meant it to end like this.” Toralei laughed self-deprecatingly. “Actually, when we came up with this whole scheme, we were kind of hoping for exactly the opposite to happen… something more like, well _this_ … but without the heartbreak.” She gestured casually to their positioning.

Facts whirled about in Clawdeen’s mind, until all the puzzle pieces came together. “Wait, are you telling me that you and Jackson… set me and Deuce up to get jealous of you two?”

“Purrhaps…” the other grinned, flicking her tail like  predator, all traces of sadness seeming to evaporate from the room. The temptation to be angry about the whole set-up flared in the she-werewolf’s breast _\- the week of torment, fighting with Deuce and Cleo, all the unnecessary angst-_ but she quashed it down with effort. To be totally fair, it had really forced her true feelings to the surface in a way that nothing else short of an unlife or permanent-death situation involving Toralei, might…

On the other hand… this all could have been avoided if the werekat had waited another five minutes before going all evil mastermind with Jackson Jekyll (of all the other students at the school). Hang on, that meant… Deuce… was in for a surprise.

Did Holt know about all this?  He seemed pretty confused, especially if he was going with Operetta… which also seemed to be a ruse, so maybe?

“Don’t think about it too hard, you’ll get a headache, trust me.” Intoned that meowlodious voice in her ear as a cheek rubbed against hers in a sign of true werekat affection. It sent an inexplicable thrill racing all through her body. If she had to express it to someone else, it was kind of like… oh no… _butterflies_ …

Groan, apparently love was going to make her into a walking cliche. Clawd would never let her hear the end of this…

****  
  


“You knew?” she finally voiced, looking dead on into those wide, encompassing emerald eyes that sparkled with mischief. When had they gotten so close again? Surely the werewolf would have noticed considering her hands were still about the slim, striped waist of one hot werekitty… but apparently not, because here she was, practically sharing the same air… and Clawdeen couldn’t for the unlife of her work out how it had happened let alone when.

“My dear Were-puppy, subtlety is for cats… and I have a knack for knowing what others don’t want to say just yet. Yes, I knew, so did Jackson… so we thought we’d play a little game with you and Deuce at the Prom, which looked as if it had backfired terribly when we saw you two retreating upstairs… but apparently not. Cause if I’m not mistaken, I’ve managed to swipe the hottest seat in the house!” She shouted elatedly, wiggling her hips in emphasis.

Clawdeen flushed a little, uncharacteristically. “You’re just as much of a dork as Jackson under all that attitude, aren’t you?” she teased, starting to question if this was all a vivid dream or jealousy-driven hallucination and just going with it. “Funny, I kind of like that in a ghoul…”

****  
  


That made those pointed orange ears perk up, a tail winding it’s way about her right arm as the other drew closer. “I’m not quite sure what this is, Clawdeen… but I’ve wanted it for a while…” she whispered, getting impossibly close. They might just merge into one being at this point and then they’d be in the same boat as Jackson and Holt. “Just didn’t know if you were interested for a long time…”

Toralei let out a startled “Mrrr-row?” as her face was suddenly grabbed, meeting the other headlong in an imperfect clash of skin, fur and fangs that managed to find a level ground, ending in a sweet, surprisingly chaste, kiss shared between two equally-frustrated ghouls finally coming to terms with how ridiculous this all was.

“Oh you dork, I’ve been wanting to do that since the Mashionals when you helped us win fairly!” Grinned the fierce lupine ghoul, her wild nature dancing in her eyes, echoing that in Toralei’s own.

“Well… I suppose, before we go back to the party… we might just have to make up for all that lost time?” she proffered, smiling coyly and leaning in to meet the other halfway this time in an equal effort of affection.

If either noticed the flash of an iCoffin poking through the floor, neither reacted outwardly… the school was going to find out one way or the other anyway…

**-**

Metaphorically washing his hands of whatever it was would go down in that classroom without him there, Deuce Gorgon strode once more unto the breach… feeling very much like a soldier heading into battle; for all the ridiculousness of that idea. Somehow it just... felt accurate. Someone might very well get rather wounded if this went south, even if it was only emotionally.

****  
  


It wasn’t clear how much time had transpired between the hasty retreat he had effected with Clawdeen and the current moment, but Operetta was already sliding onstage, cracking her knuckles and flexing those insanely talented fingers. Apparently enough of the party had elapsed in their absence for Catty to complete her first set… Prom-goers still seemed relatively un-lively, having a few refreshments or chatting with one another at the tables or on the couches.

Those who needed to were catching their breath… ballots for Prom King and Queen were still being taken apparently, but no one was taking it seriously anymore. They all knew Heath and Abbey would win, they were top of the polls after Deuce and Cleo at the last Prom… and now the original power-couple was split, (one side having just blown the minds of many present by revealing a long-standing desire for their main musical ghoul) and the other… well, Deuce was still trying to figure out what was happening there.

Holt was fiddling with a few microphones and chatting with Operetta, whom Cleo was watching avidly with that same lovestruck expression on her fine, royal features, that she’d once worn for him. That set off a tiny pang in his chest, but the gorgon shoved it down, because that phase of their unlife was over… now he’d do just about anything to see it on a pair of almost identically similar countenances. Might get the chance if he ever got to the bottom of what was even happening at this dance event… too much secret subterfuge going on for his tastes.

****  
  


He took a moment to appreciate how the elemental DJ on-stage appeared to flow from one action to the other with an insanely fluid amount of grace you would not immediately pin him as having at first glance. Holt was loud... a wild, excited form of abandonment made monster… everything about him just oozed energy - though thankfully never literally, the school had more than enough oozing students to clean up after as it was. One more and the janit-jaws might just quit outright…

Though what others didn’t know was how incredibly gentle and generous the other was in addition to his wild party side; how creative and clever his hands could be, making a masterpiece out of the most inane items, or filling a page with a musical score no one had thought of before. How Holt and Jackson actually weren’t so different, really… that this was one Hyde who was never unnecessarily violent… impulsive, protective and forceful on occasion… but never resorting to violence as a first response to problems.

It was one of the things Deuce really lo-... _liked_ … about the blue party monster, that even though he and Jackson bled over in many places, Holt still differed enough to be a complex individual underneath the overt differences between the two that most people credited him with at first glance.

The majority of the school held the ideal that they worked like polar opposites -Holt as the Left to Jackson’s  Right, Loud to his Soft, Impulse to the other’s Caution… but the reality was that it was more like the pair diverged only a little in specific areas, less black and white… more a vivid rainbow of shades in between that they each shared or differed on minutely, or overtly.

Spotting the gorgon in the crowd and finished with setting Operetta up, Holt jumped off the stage area and waded through the others towards him.

“Yo bro, where’d you go? I looked for you and the fiercely-fine Miss Clawdeen after Catty started, but you two had snuck off… not up to anything Nefera-ious behind the scenes, huh?” the waggling eyebrows of suggestiveness were belied by the flash of hurt that rippled across his beautiful blue face before being swiftly concealed.

“I, uh, well no… you’ve got it wrong… Clawdeen and I totally came as friends, we just wanted to keep an eye on Toralei in case she had something in mind for tonight’s proceedings that might need a little stonework involved to stop.” He tapped his visor twice, then shrugged, “Apparently not…”

Holt was really in his personal space right now, a hand on his upper arm as he practically shouted over the increase in music as the pipe organs roared to life like ancient musical gods awoken after centuries.

“Aw nah, you can’t just leave it there… what about the rest that you’re not saying? Like where you were, what happened to that sneaky werekitty… and why Jackson feels all twisted around right now. SOMETHING upset him...” Holt got a calculating look in his fiery eyes, “...or was it a SOMEONE?”

_The tone of that voice could justifiably be tried for murder._

“No, n-... well, yes, sort of, it’s all a little complicated and I have no idea what’s really happening, honestly. Clawdeen is one fierce babe but I didn’t come with her for any other reason than to scope out Toralei, who she is totally in love with. Cleo _finally_ got Operetta’s attention - _I thought she was gonna have one of her Anubians skewer you when she found out you two were going together…_ and Jackson was in on whatever scheme was going on, but I’m not sure how or what it was about exactly.” Frustrated, Deuce huffed a sigh, “It’s all a bit of a mess right now. Something... happened just before you two… swapped over.”

Clearly not impressed with the amount of unintentional dramatic pauses being levelled at him, Holt rolled those scintillating fiery orbs and crossed his arms. “AND? You don’t just leave a story hanging like tha-... _uh, hang on, come with me…_ I need to go replug something before one of those shriekers explode on Operetta.”

Dodging and weaving like a duck in water, Holt was almost to the front of the crowd before the gorgon had even taken more than a step forwards. Deuce skirting through the crowd of dancers with relative ease as well, mostly because people still instinctively tended to make way for him and Cleo in crowded situations; meaning the the Ancient Egyptian beauty’s earlier elbow-fest had technically been completely unnecessary -they would have moved if given half a chance.

In general, it was a little embarrassing and frustrating, with the additional kick to the headsnakes that was dredging up memories of gliding through crowded spaces unhindered with Cleo on his arm… or, more accurately, him on hers… he was the manster-candy in that relationship. Not a bad place to be, but it did get tiresome quickly.

He briefly wondered how Operetta would deal with the social pressure… but considering her performances in the Skulltimate Rollermaze arena?  He wasn't worried after the musical monster one bit… if anyone could hold forth against the best of them and remain as uniquely individual against a literal horde of people seeking to idolise her, it was Operetta.

Choosing not to follow Holt’s example and vault into the DJ station - _and seriously, how did those two do that unless one of their ancestors was an air elemental or a Harpy or something flight-enabled?_ \- Deuce took the long way around, up the side-stairs.

The stage wasn’t exactly set high, but the DJ station was elevated above that, so… of course, additional stairs were involved; much to Deuce’s displeasure. He’d almost had enough of them at this point, having gone up and down them far too many times in the last few hours.

Fiddling with something to the right, the sound flickered briefly then slammed back full-force as Operetta played both hands dramatically on the ancient organ’s keys; a melodious sound just about flattening everyone present before Holt managed to dial the volume down again, issue fixed. She turned to give him an ‘Okay’ signal before whirling back to her musical set once more.

Leaving the party monster to whirl about on Deuce and put a blue finger pointedly in the gorgon’s chest as he demanded, “ _You_. Explain the Super-Awful-Something Jackson was involved in. _Now_.”

How do you explain something like this to, what was technically one of the participants, who simply didn’t recall the situation? Several seconds elapsed, Holt’s frown getting notably deeper by the second; they were starting to draw attention, being under the spotlights in the DJ station, as it were.

“Uh, okay… so when Jackson was out before he and Toralei were being all… coupley, and we still thought it was like, a clever ruse for whatever she was planning, right?”

Holt nodded, and made a ‘go on’ gesture, expression pensive.

“So we were watching them, on the dancefloor… and you need to know that perhaps our intentions weren't quite as altruistic as they sounded before. On one hand we didn’t want that furbulous ghoul causing any grief, but at the same time we didn’t want Jackson and Toralei to be _together_ -together, if you get us. Clawdeen was going crazy just watching her bring him punch… and then, they kinda did something unexpected.” He rubbed at the back of his neck, thinking how best to explain this.

“They got super-close, like… intense couple-zone close, and for a split-second, it looked like she was whispering something in Jackson’s ear… or maybe they were kissing, but it made Clawdeen see red right before her heart broke. I didn’t feel much better… so we left the party for a bit, went upstairs to fang out in one of the empty classrooms and decide if we even wanted to come back down after having our hearts crushed like that.”

****  
  


He must have looked as miserable as he felt, because Holt was suddenly one-hundred percent concern. “That’s… too cruel for Jacky-boy, what the hex? Something doesn’t add up here, I thought those two said they were going as friends-...”

Before Deuce could leap upon that last statement like a live grenade, their iCoffins buzzed in synch with those belonging to the rest of the assembled monsters. He fished it out quickly, wondering what he might find, and just about dropped it in complete and utter surprise.

“ _By all the Gods… she did it_.”

The gorgon couldn’t have wiped the grin off of his face for anything, so genuinely pleased that things had worked out for Clawdeen and her not-so-little feline crush. Evident by the picture of the pair kissing in an abandoned classroom under the caption, “ _Age Old Enemies Were-Cats & -Dogs to Reconcile?_”, he vaguely wondered how Spectra had even gotten that photo.

****  
  


Seconds later, Clawdeen and Toralei burst back into the Prom, eyes wide and ears pricked; obviously having got the mass text update like the rest of them.

Clawdeen shouted, “ _We can explain!_ ” mainly at her stunned siblings and _just-about-exploding-with-excitement best ghoulfriend_ , Draculaura, who was all about Clawdeen finding romance and being happy.

While Toralei aimed more for the stage and, cupping her hands around her mouth, shouted over the music, “THE DATE WAS A LIE, WE’RE FRIENDS! IF YOU’RE JEALOUS AND YOU KNOW IT, _KISS THE GUYS_!”

Could she be any more blunt? Perhaps...she could have carved his attraction to the pair into his arm, maybe…

****  
  


Holt looked practically predatory as he turned back to Deuce, “So, finally ready to admit you are tooooooooootally crushing on the Holt-meister and Jack-inator?”

_“I’ll admit to nothing if you insist on using those nicknames,”_ the gorgon shot back, grinning to belie the fact his heart was pounding a thousand miles a minute now the werekat was, not only out of the bag… but shouting proclamations about her love life, and everyone else’s at that. “But if we’re talking about a certain dual-natured pair of technical twins called Holt and Jackson,  I might just be willing to admit that purrhaps I think they’re more than just clawsome casual bros to fang-out with…”

Holt just about lost containment of his eye-sockets, casual tone gone as the reality of the whole situation sank in. The monsters in the room torn between paying attention to the continued playing of Operetta, the drama that was _Clawreli_ or whatever they called themselves now, and the practical soap opera happening in the DJ station right before them all. Many waiting with baited breath and crossed… well, whatever appendages they happened to have.

****  
  


“Are-... are you telling me we’ve been patiently waiting for sooooooooooooo long to see if you would ask us out, _especially to Prom_ , and you’ve been waiting for us to ask _you_ all this time?” he asked Deuce, incredulous, before flinging his arms in the air exasperatedly. “Of every complication we envisioned, this was totally not on the list… literally bro, we have a list. Mostly it was full of ways you’d reject us, and also a few notes about potential mad-science accidents that might involve love-eating creatures _that also devour monsters whole…_ hey, it was late, we were sleep-deprived, it seemed logical to our super-stressed mind.”

Laughing, Deuce moved forwards to corner the blue DJ against the other side of his booth, “That’s actually one of the things I love about you two… you’re both crazy in all the right ways, it’s never boring around either of you. Could do with less explosions in class, but I’ll take what I can get…”

“So dramatic…” Holt sighed, as if put-upon. Pointing at Deuce and suddenly shouting, “ _We choose THIS ONE_ , AW YEAH!”

****  
  


Turning the tables completely, the literal party monster leapt forwards and planted a kiss right on Deuce, to the surprised sounds of their audience; Toralei notably, ironically, wolf-whistling and cheering loudest of everyone. Operetta nearly fell off her organ stool when she turned to see what all the kerfuffle was…

“Well it’s about damn time.” she muttered, playing on to prolong the moment seeing as Holt didn’t have his headphones on right now. Pointedly ignoring how Spectra was frantically getting pictures from every angle she could, having to be dragged away by Johnny, at Operetta’s pointed gesture-driven insistence.

****  
  


Cleo was actually applauding, now they’d both mostly achieved what they’d set out to do when the power-couple had originally split apart. Most of the rest of their classmates were either expressing excitement, disappointment it wasn't them either of the newly claimed guys and ghouls were looking at, or having to sit down where they were to process the gods-damned rollercoaster of revelations that had been tonight -and the Prom technically wasn’t even half-over yet!

****  
  


The hybrid finally released the Gorgon, beaming like he’d just won the best thing he could possibly imagine, but maintained a firm grip on the tie Jackson had so carefully fastened properly for the other earlier. “...guessing that was a good enough response to the question you totally meant to ask, which is ‘ _will you two be my boyfriends?_ ’, right?” teased the part-elemental, failing to quash the massive grin spreading across his face.

Deuce was wondering how it had all come down to this moment, which was moving pretty fast for his liking. “Um, yes? You will?”

“Weeeeeeeeell,” Holt drawled, “ _I_ will, but you might need to ask little-mr-mastermind who messed with you and Clawdeen because neither of you could come out and say you liked us…”

He was already gesturing to Operetta that her next song needed to be a lot lower, volume-wise, and more in the range of compound time… say, some sort of waltz or something classical. She was one of the few in the school that knew the length and breadth of their change-trigger, which songs worked for each of them; almost immediately, something lively but off-beat began playing…

Holt seemed to recognise it as he faded out into Jackson, because he shot a dark glare at the Phantom’s Daughter as she laughed back.

Understandably confused by the situation, the party monster’s more human-looking alter ego blinked and tried to get a handful of situational cues other than the vague resonating, _HAPPY_ and _ACHIEVEMENT_ , with a sharp edge of _Little Bit Aroused_ that was left over from Holt. His face scrunched up adorably as something made a connection inside that formidable mind of his, “Why is someone playing _Let It Go_ from FROZEN?”

****  
  


That was it, Operetta’s fingers missed a series of keys as she curled over in a hysterically laughing ball… after a short time around his more normie-friends, Jackson had expressed an intense dislike for being ambushed by that particular song, as you could never get away from it on that side of town. Not to mention… it had the uncomfortable history of being the soundtrack to their greatest shame… _The Incident_ , during which many feather boas lost their unlives, tragic really.

Unfortunately, _Let It Go_   was one of the few songs off-beat enough to let him exist in a musical scenario at higher volumes… a bonfide catch 22, really.

****  
  


Other things seemed to align for him in that split-second.

Toralei jumping up and down to draw attention to the fact she was now firmly clasping hands with one Clawdeen Wolf -something she pointed out with excessive gesturing

The fact they were in Holt’s DJ booth, and there happened to be a small audience of the entirety of their peers watching them.

How Spectra was gleefully staring at her iCoffin before aiming it at them.

The way Ghoulia rolled her eyes as if to say, ‘Finally!’, and smiled up at him specifically.

Cleo’s amused grin.

_Deuce…_

****  
  


Deuce...standing _really, really_ close, actually. Snakes outstretched as if they wanted to slither into his hair.

“Oh no…” he whispered, making the connection that the other knew. That wasn't actually part of the _Make-them-Jealous-Enough-to-Confess_ plan.

“Oh yes, Holt and I totally worked out what you and Toralei were up to… not that there’ll be a next time, but perhaps you two could try asking us out first if you wanted? Saves all the drama.” Deuce suggested, before pushing closer, always gauging whether or not the other was into it or not every millimetre of the way.

****  
  


“So, you’re not mad…?” Jackson asked, hesitantly, certain he would be pretty pissed if it had been the other way around and Deuce had pulled this on them.

Deuce seemed to consider it, as Jackson bumped up against the back of the DJ station. “Well now you mention it…” he let it hang for a minute, before continuing, “...nah, not really. Not a fan of how you went about it, but the end kind of justifies the means in this case… but Holt might leave you a frustrated video message later tonight. Oh, he said _yes_ , by the way.”

“Yes to… being your-...?” he questioned, not quite daring to believe it. They did share interests, emotions and desires on occasion, but he’d kind of sprung this on his other half… him agreeing so readily was unusual.

Deuce grinned, “Yep… and you? What’s your answer, Jackson? Cause from what I understand.... you two are all or nothing…”

****  
  


With a devilish grin that seemed to carry with it a shadow of his party monster twin, Jackson surged forwards and took the gorgon by surprise for the second time that night; letting his answer be expressed far more verbally. Oh, neither of them were perfect technique-wise, definitely room for improvement… but at the same time, it kind of was, for both of them.

So maybe this wasn’t how Deuce had envisioned their first kiss to go (the audience was a surprise)  but it was way, waaaay better in reality than anything his imagination could ever have conjured. Not even the flashing of a certain gossip blogger’s camera could dampen the excitement of the situation…

By the time they broke apart, Operetta was really stressing out the last chords of the song in her attempt to give them a bit longer.

“Y’all are done? Good, I didn’t have any more music to give you for that insanely disney moment you were having over there…” she jibed, startling a laugh out of many of their classmates. “Now that’s settled, can we please get back to our Prom business? Holt’s up next, then Catty and me again… plus we have to crown the King and Queen sometime in the middle there… then we can all ride off into the sunrise with our other halves. Fair enough?”

“This isn’t over,” Jackson promised, gently pushing Deuce away from him as he nodded to Operetta to slam on the music once again, Holt appearing with an elated shout, jump and flail.

“Aw YEAH, sorry for all the mushy-stuff… let’s get this PARTAY ROCKIN AGAIN!” he turned towards Deuce, blowing a kiss and winking, “And remember boys and ghouls, hands and other appendages are to be kept away from our fabulous new boyfriend, Deuce, at all times... “

Descending the stairs, Deuce paused  and groaned, face falling into his hands… what had he unleashed?

**-**


	6. Epilogue

It was, of course, Abbey and Heath crowned Prom King and Queen to rapturous applause. Though, additionally, it was perhaps the first year that the Prom King ever set fire to the bouquet in all of Monster High history…

  
  
  


Each of the new couples spent the rest of the event being excruciatingly cute towards one another, dancing to songs both slow and fast, soft and thumping…

 

Toralei claiming Clawdeen’s lap as hers for all eternity, apparently; and Cleo making a show of lounging on Operetta’s pipe organ as she played… just so she could keep the other ghoul’s glorious lilac features in her field of vision at all times.

Deuce took care to spend equal time in the evening between Holt and Jackson as the music shifted; each pair having a fangtastic time, before all three couples found a way to skip out on cleaning up duty, and disappear into the rising dawn for _Gods knew what_ purposes.

 

**-**

 

By Monday, the entire school knew what had gone down, many whispering about the newest trio of power-couples unleashed upon the school by the events of last Friday’s Prom. With a full week of the Scaremester left to go, and nothing to do now the Finals were over and all the results now returned… pretty much all that was left to do was wander about the halls, reading the latest gossip and sharing various rumours with one another, occasionally lounging about various areas of the school.

 

It did not, whatsoever, help matters that Spectra had written a whopping twelve-page article on the new, _could-never-have-been-predicted_ pairings of Cleo  & Operetta, Clawdeen & Toralei, and of course the most surprising of all, Deuce, Holt & Jackson. The couples themselves found the article a laughable affair, most of the facts just this side of incorrect… but still saving a copy each as a sort of official relationship milestone.

 

There were a few nay-sayers, but for the most part, everyone else was pleased for them and seemed content to let them be as they were. Teenage monsters in love…

 

Not saying everything was perfect from thereonin, there were spats, misunderstandings, a few public fights -one even resulting in an intense cold shoulder treatment that had even Abbey shivering; but the main thing was… they never lasted. The pairs, or technical trios, made up and fell apart on a regular basis… and it was a form of perfection that others hoped to attain.

 

**-**

 

Striding out of school on that last day of term for the year, arm around Jackson’s shoulders, and flanked by his four main ghouls - Toralei and Clawdeen to his right, Cleo and Operetta to the left… Deuce found himself grinning. Apparently his enthusiasm for the summer was contagious, because it spread like wildfire amongst the assembled as they descended the school stairs towards the parking lot.

 

Never in his unlife could he have dreamed things would end this way, especially not after the rollercoaster of emotions that had been this year’s Prom. But, the more he thought about it… the Gorgon realised… sliding into the front seat and kissing one boyfriend before turning on the radio to finish the action with the other.

 

Even if he could, right this second, the gorgon wouldn’t dream of changing a thing… it was already perfect as it was.

 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Guys, thanks for reading... it means a lot. 
> 
> Also, if you love the Holt/Deuce/Jackson demographic... then I implore you to run on over to the fabulous QueenMarmot's (abso-freaking-lutely-brilliant) "(Monster) Boys Just Wanna Have Fun". Because it is the cutest freaking thing I have ever read... but also the evilest thing too, given how many cliffhangers I had to unlive through.


End file.
